Black Lion
by RedSands
Summary: In this alternative telling of ASOIAF, Tyrion Lannister manages to hide his secret marriage to the commoner Tysha long enough to conceive a child. Will the Lannisters accept this commonborn child, and how will the child play a part in the Game of Thrones? A/N: Starting as a T, may become an M due to the nature of the content of ASOIAF.
1. Prologue: Jaime

Jaime

The loud crack of thunder echoed throughout the night, one that would have shaken even the deepest of sleepers from their slumber. But tonight, very few were sleeping in Casterly Rock. Rain and the shouts of men echoed throughout the courtyard, so much so that the thunder's interruption was welcome to break up the monotony.

_Gods, this is not good._ Jaime Lannister watched with uneasiness from inside the doorway that led into the great keep atop the Rock, seeing his father's men feverously working to calm the horses who had been spooked. _Tyrion, I hope for your sake that Father is merciful. _

It had only been a few days since Jaime had returned to his birthplace, granted leave by King Robert of his duties as a member of the Kingsguard so that he could travel home. Jaime had been quite eager to come back to visit Casterly Rock for the second time since the fall of the Targaryens, even if it did mean leaving Cersei alone at King's Landing. He had attempted to convince Cersei that she would be fine without him, but Jaime could tell that his twin had not been entirely convinced of his words. If it weren't for their father's request for him to visit, he would have stayed with her, and would have chosen to stay with her a million times over. But Jaime knew better than to defy his father, even when he was a continent's length away.

_It's not as if we had much time for one another as of late anyways. _Jaime thought, a tad bitter. Cersei had been too busy admiring her infant son, Joffrey, born less than a year ago. Jaime understood his sister's need to care for her child, but still felt bored without Cersei visiting him in the night, which only served as further motivation to visit his father and brother at the Rock. But as Jaime watched the scene transpiring in the courtyard, he had a feeling that perhaps he should have departed later so as not to be involved with what would be happening tonight.

"Are you ready?" Jaime nearly jumped as he heard a stern voice from behind him. He didn't bother turning his head to look upon the face it belonged to.

"Father, I beg you to reconsider this. Tyrion-"

"I will _not _hear another word from you on this. Come." A glimpse of Tywin Lannister's face as he passed was enough for Jaime to hold his tongue. Not since Jaime's appointment to the Kingsguard by Aerys Targaryen had he seen his father in such a mood. Face curled up to look even more stern than usual, the Lord of Casterly Rock walked briskly past his son into the pounding rain and darkness. Pausing for but a moment, Jaime followed him out from the shelter of the keep and made his way to a horse that had been prepared for him.

The rain made the ride difficult, but Jaime made sure to keep pace with his father, who was leading his men in the charge down the Rock. The harder they rode, the more anxious that Jaime became. Fear rose up in him as he continued to press on against the storm. Not for himself, but for his dear brother.

He had always felt like this day would come, although Jaime had held onto hope that it wouldn't. He had even prayed to gods other than the Warrior that it wouldn't happen. Nine months previous, during Jaime's last visit to the Westerlands, he and Tyrion had helped to save some common girl from a band of brigands, and whilst Jaime had driven the thugs off Tyrion had cared for the girl.

Ever since his return to King's Landing, Jaime had received letters from Tyrion, all of which having one thing In common; the girl, whom her name Tyrion said to be Tysha. At first, Jaime had been shocked that his little brother would secretly marry a common girl, but as the letters continued, Jaime felt happiness for his brother. Tyrion had been despised by their father and sister for many things; the death of their mother, Tyrion's deformity, reasons Jaime saw as petty. Seeing his brother's words made Jaime understand that Tyrion was truly happy with this girl, and Jaime could only write back replies of encouragement to him.

Tyrion had always detailed how he was hiding Tysha in a small cottage near the Rock, far enough away from their father's knowledge but close enough for Tyrion to visit his wife daily. But yesterday, Tyrion's secret had been exposed. One of their father's spies had come to them during a meal, to report to Lord Tywin the whereabouts of his youngest son, who had explained that he was going to take a ride about the countryside. When Lord Tywin received the news, Jaime saw his father's fury etched on his face.

The man had said that whilst following Tyrion out to a cottage on the outskirts of a southern town, he could see a young woman, slender and black of hair, embrace Tyrion as he rode up. But perhaps the greatest source of Lord Tywin's rage came from the last words of his spy's report, who he also noted that the woman was also heavily with child. No sooner had he heard that last detail did Lord Tywin throw his goblet in disgust and storm out of the hall, to Jaime's utter horror.

Lord Tywin had organized his men almost as quickly as the storm they were riding in had settled in the skies above the Westerlands. Even though he wasn't superstitious, Jaime thought it to be a bad omen, and hoped that his father would show mercy to both his brother and Tysha. But he knew that Lord Tywin was not a man capable of great sympathy. _Castamere can attest to that. _

"There, mi'lord!" In the rain, Jaime could hear the voice of the same spy calling to Lord Tywin, pointing in the direction of a cottage, illuminated by candlelight coming from inside. As the riders approached, Jaime attempted to find the will to speak once more, to plead with his father on this matter further. AS they approached, Jaime spoke in barely a whisper.

"Father, I beg of you. Be merciful." Lord Tywin stopped for a moment before turning back to Jaime.

"Your brother dishonors this house with whoring, and you dare to beg of mercy for him?" Lord Tywin's hissed, making sure to keep their conversation quiet. But the furious look forced Jaime to avert his gaze to avoid eye contact. His father looked deathly at him a few moments more before turning to his guards. "Open the door!"

"Is that…crying?" One of the men stopped and said, causing the rest of the party to listen closely as well. Jaime's eyes widened as his ears heard the audible cries of someone coming from inside of the cottage, a voice that he didn't recognize. The screeching was soft and tiny, sounding a whole lot like how Joffrey sounded when…_Oh gods._

"I commanded you to open the doors! Now!" Jaime looked frantically as his father's stern voice made itself known again, his command fulfilled as one of the men kicked the door inward. Jaime followed his father inside, and was met with a scene in the front room that he would likely never forget.

"Gods." In the room were four individuals. The first Jaime saw was a man cloaked in grey with a chain around his neck, holding a bundle in his arm and looking at the party as if they were his executioners. The second was a man cloaked in white, likely a septon, who wore the same look of fear on his face as the maester that held the bundle that Jaime now recognized as the source of the noise. But the most unsettling image was that of his brother, lying on the ground as he embraced the girl Jaime recognized as Tysha. But something was wrong. There was a great deal of blood on the floor, and Tysha was not moving, unlike Cersei had been after Joffrey's birth. The girl's eyes were closed, and she was as white as the second man's cloak.

"What is this madness!?" Lord Tywin demanded, but was met with no answer other than the cries of the child the maester was holding in his arms. Jaime stood nervously, watching his father as Lord Tywin gazed upon the scene before him. "Tyrion! What have you done?!"

"Father. And Jaime too." Tyrion looked back to the two of them, and Jaime could see the red and wet eyes of his brother. "Brother, have you betrayed me?"

"Tyrion, I-"

"I don't need your brother to betray you to me, Tyrion. Do you not remember who I am? Did you think I would not find out about this eventually?"

"I don't care what you think!" Defiance was etched into every syllable of Tyrion's words, as the little dwarf turned and lashed back to his father and all those who had entered. "After everything you have put me through, I was not going to give up this chance at happiness!"

"Happiness with some whore?"

"Don't you call her that!"

"My lord Lannister." The man dressed in white, whom Jaime guessed was a septon, spoke nervously. "Whatever her status may be, the girl is legally married to-"

"SILENCE!" The Lion's roar was enough to make the septon tremble, his lip quivering. "I will not hear of this any further. Take the bastard and kill it!"

"No!" Tyrion stood from the ground and looked up to his father. "Do with me what you wish, but leave the child. Do not harm the child."

"Tyrion, I will not have the stain of a bastard on my house! You shall be punished, but that child will not live to see another day!"

"Father, stop!" Jaime came to his senses, and suddenly recognized his hand was on the hilt of his sword. He pulled his sword hand away and approached his father, whispering in his ear. "Think about this."

"Jaime, I thought I told you to be silent."

"You need to listen to reason." Jaime said, causing his father to look at him, still fuming but silent. After a pause, Jaime approached and whispered in his ear. "The septon said the marriage is legitimate. That child is Tyrion's, and it is trueborn."

"You cannot expect me to-"

"Please, just listen." Jaime looked intently in his father's eyes as his mind raced to find some sort of words to stop his father. He quickly came up with something reasonable. "Even if the boy isn't legitimate, he's still your kin. Do you really want to be a kinslayer?" Jaime's words seemed to affect his father, whose eye visibly twitched upon hearing the word kinslayer, one of the ultimate taboos in Westeros. "Our house can ill afford that stain, don't you agree?"

"What are you suggesting, Jaime?"

"Take the child in. Make him apart of your house, you are in need of more lions in your line, and I cannot inherit." When his father looked at him with skepticism and scorn again, Jaime pleaded with him once more. "Look at the septon, do you really think he's lying about the marriage being legitimate?" Lord Tywin's displeasure was still quite evident, but he did not say another word against Jaime, instead looking down and pondering the situation. After a moment, the Lion looked back to his youngest son.

"Tyrion." The stern voice of his father made Jaime worry for a moment, but he stayed silent and watched. "That child. I wish to see it." Jaime saw his brother give their father a skeptical look. "Do not worry, I will not kill it." The Lion motioned to the maester, who slowly approached and handed the bundle to Lord Tywin, who promptly looked under the bundle the child was wrapped in. Strangely enough, the child stopped its crying as Jaime's father held it, and a hush fell upon the room.

"A boy." Jaime could hear something familiar to relief in his father's voice. From what he saw, the boy looked quite normal, far from what Tyrion had looked like when he was an infant. _Is that what you're truly relieved about, Father?_ "Very well then. Tyrion, I will allow you to keep this child and claiming him as legitimate, but for this, you will do something for me."

"And what will that be?" Tyrion said, traces of defiance still in his voice.

"Should I claim this boy as my proper grandchild, you are to forgo all claims to Casterly Rock. That would mean this child is my heir, and as such, you will leave the boy in my care as a ward when he comes of age, and you will not defy me in any way as I teach him. Am I understood?" Jaime watched his brother, Tyrion's inner conflict mirrored on his face. But only a moment of contemplation was necessary, and Tyrion nodded his approval of their father's commands. "Good. Now, name your son."

As Tyrion took the child from Tywin, Jaime saw his brother's face soften upon seeing the infant. "Markus." Tyrion muttered. "His name shall be Markus."

* * *

Okay, so it's been a while since I've been on here and posted something worthwhile, and I feel like I owe an explanation. First and foremost, my other story, High as Honor, is likely not going to be finished anytime soon. I've lost interest with it, and I realize that it was pretty sloppy in comparison to the better works I've seen on here. So, there's that. Sorry to everyone who supported the story and me, but I just don't have the passion for that right now. Maybe I'll come back to it at a later date. I hope you can forgive me for this and will show 'Black Lion' just as much love as 'High as Honor'.

For newcomers who haven't read High as Honor, I have to explain my writing style when it comes to fanfictions. My ideology is that an individual cannot do something different than what they did in the original works unless there is something inherently different in the world which they exist in. To instigate this inherent difference, I use an original character, typically in the form of a child of someone who already exists in ASOIAF and whose existence can be entirely plausible (Olyvar Arryn, first son of Jon Arryn and Lysa Tully, conceived when the Moon Tea Lysa drank didn't work) based on the parameters of the world which the story takes place in.

In this instance, however, I have to make a further stretch to incorporate the OC into the story line by making the presumption that Tyrion could hide Tysha from Tywin long enough for the two of them to consummate and create Markus, the OC and main difference in the story. Although it does not happen in the books, I still feel it is not outside the realm of possibility that Tyrion could do such a thing, and as such I feel it works as an introduction.

Also, and this is something those who have read 'High as Honor' know, but I am very slow when it comes to plot diversion from the original works. Typically these stories will stick with the original time- and storylines until a certain point, where then I divert and have the world of ASOIAF play out differently. Furthermore, if the OC, Markus, has nothing to do with the storylines of other characters, you will likely not see them in this work. For their POVs, I suggest reading them from the original works, or alternatively watching the show. Be warned, however, that the show and the books have become drastically different, and as this work follows the books, some who only watch the show may become lost. To those who have read the books, please help those whom are confused best as you can.


	2. GOT: Markus I

"Come on, wake up boy." The soft shake and the quiet words were enough to rouse him from his sleep, but he resisted opening his eyes, hoping that the source of his awakening would go away. A hopeless dream that he knew would never happen. "Markus, get up or I'll have you shoveling dung from the stables when we return to King's Landing."

"Just a few more minutes, Uncle Jaime." Markus Lannister opened his right eye just a crack to see the familiar sight of his uncle, Jaime Lannister, standing above him, grinning down upon his nephew. Even the dull grey of the early morning couldn't take away from the brightness that was his uncle's golden curls.

"You know we can't have that. You're fortunate Ser Barristan isn't the one you're squiring for. I doubt he'd be so patient." Markus groaned at his uncle's teasing before sitting up, his hair falling to cover his face. He used his right hand to wipe the black hair to the right, and blonde to the left. "Come, else you won't be having any breakfast."

"I'd rather not have breakfast with Joff if I could avoid it." Markus mumbled as his uncle left their tent. Knowing that any further resistance would not be worthwhile, the boy stretched his arms up before using them to help rise from the bed, stretching his legs and torso as he stood. After a moment searching for his tunic, he put it on over his small clothes and laced himself up before making his way out into the camp.

"Come on, I'm sure your father is waiting." Markus was met by his uncle, who had been waiting for him outside of the tent. Together they made their way to the great tent, where King Robert Baratheon, Markus' uncle by marriage, resided in. Even in the early hours, the camp was full of life, as there were men taking down tents and packing up tables in preparation for their departure. As Markus gave a yawn, Jaime chuckled. "I wonder how one who sleeps so much can still find time to be tired."

"Squire for a knight of the Kingsguard, and even you'd be tired Uncle." When Jaime only responded with laughter, Markus shot him an annoyed look. It felt like everything was always a joke to his uncle. "When are we going to be in Winterfell anyways?"

"Another week of travel, likely less if Robert has his way and keeps us riding into the night." _His Grace, Uncle. _But Markus could only grin. Despite being a difficult man to squire under, his uncle was quite casual, not even getting annoyed when he was simply address as Uncle. Much different from his aunt, who had 'politely' reminded Markus to always refer to her as 'Your Grace'. He never made the same mistake of addressing her as Aunt Cersei after that.

"Is it true what they say? That Ned Stark's sister was the reason why His Grace went to war with the Targaryens?" He had always read about the cruelty perpetrated by Aerys Targaryen, the last dragon king, which instigated the war. But Markus was always keen to listen to gossip in the capital, and had heard that Eddard Stark's sister had been betrothed to Robert Baratheon at one point, and that Rhaegar Targaryen had stolen her away from him.

"I wouldn't say that was the only reason, but it was certainly one of them." Markus noticed his uncle's face turn from pleasant to bothered, as if something was foul to him. Even though he was curious, Markus did not bother to press on. His grandfather had always told him to be observant and to choose his words wisely, and saying more and possibly upsetting his uncle would not be wise.

As they entered the tent, a pleasant smell filled Markus' nose, and the appetite that he had been ignoring would no longer be denied. "Ahh, Markus and Jaime! Come and eat!" At the back of the tent sat King Robert, First in his Name, whose plate was full of an assortment of meats and whose cup was likely full of mead.

"Your Grace."

"Your Grace." Both Markus and Jaime spoke in unison as knight and squire bowed to pay their respect to the King before taking seats. But as Markus scanned the room, there was someone missing. He turned back to the King. "Where is my father?"

"Ahh yes, Tyrion said something last night about having his breakfast delivered to his tent. Says he has things to study." Robert shrugged, while Markus frowned, disappointed. Breakfast was the only time he ever got to see his father because of his duties as a squire. Without his father, Markus felt less inclined to attend breakfast himself.

"Cousin." Markus' displeasure only grew as he saw Prince Joffrey wave and address him. "Come, take a seat and eat something." _Don't act polite, bastard. You just want to torment me while you have the chance. _Putting on a false smile, which itself was very small but did the part in convincing others, Markus nodded and made his way to the seat that Joffrey presented him.

"Mi'lord, how my I serve you?" One of the serving girls had approached Markus to ask what he wanted to eat. Markus was familiar with this particular serving girl, who always seemed to find him when it was time for his meals. She was around his age, had dark hair and a petite figure, with a pretty face and smile. Markus found it a refreshing sight.

"Bacon, sausage and a cup of water, if you would please." The serving girl bowed, which Markus gave a nod of recognition for.

"Why do you thank her?" Markus turned to see Joffrey wearing a sneer, speaking in a harsh tone. "She's a servant, she should be thanking you for allowing her to serve you."

"She's still a person, Joff. Just because she's a servant doesn't mean I shouldn't be kind to her." But Joffrey only scoffed at his cousin's words, taking a large drink for a cup that Markus suspected was full of wine.

"I suppose when someone has a commonborn mother, they're a tad more inclined to sympathize with others like them." Markus would have liked to do nothing more than to take his knife and drive it into Joff's throat at that comment. It wasn't the first time Joff had made a slight towards Markus about his mother. But his father's words stopped him every time he had desired to butcher Joffrey. 'Remember who you are.' _It's not hard, considering nearly everyone is so eager to remind me. _

"Markus, can you play with me today?" Markus looked across the tent at his cousin, the Prince Tommen, who wore a hopeful and much more pleasant expression on his face than his elder brother did.

"I'm sorry, Tommen. Uncle Jaime needs me to prepare his armor and arms today." When Markus caught the downtrodden look on Tommen's face, Markus acted quickly. "I'll ask Uncle Jaime if you can help me though."

"Tommen is a Prince, Nephew. He isn't going to prepare armor and arms, even if it's for a member of the Kingsguard." His aunt's cool response made Markus recoil. He never thought he would miss Casterly Rock and the constant lessons his grandfather made him endure, but less than a year after becoming his uncle's squire in King's Landing had made Markus miss the Rock, mainly because he didn't have to endure his aunt or elder cousin.

"But Mother, I want to learn how to squire!"

"Let the boy learn, Cersei." The King had overheard the conversation and made his voice known." He'll likely be a squire to some knight one day, it's best for him to know now than to have to later." The Queen looked at him with her icy stare before returning to her breakfast.

"If you think it best." The Queen's response made Markus wish the King had said nothing, but Tommen seemed overjoyed to have been given permission by his father. Markus did not wish to anger his aunt, but he was not going to complain about having Tommen accompanying him, even if he was a tad bit more curious than most and asked a great deal of questions.

"Your breakfast, mi'lord." The girl had returned with a full plate of everything Markus had requested, a bit too full if he were to be honest. He had expected a decent amount, but even for him the proportion were large. It was as if the serving girl expected him to grow as large as King Robert himself, something Markus hoped to avoid.

"My thanks." The girl gave a bow as Markus nodded his thanks and began eating, savoring his breakfast and thankful that Joff did not say another word to him. After he finished, he received leave of the king to go and prepare his uncle's armor and weapon, while Tommen proudly followed behind him.

"What's it like squiring for Uncle Jaime, Markus?" Tommen asked as the two made their way to the tent Markus shared with his uncle.

"Difficult." Markus chuckled, amused by his cousin's curious optimism. "Uncle isn't one to be easy on me. He insists that I train and make sure that I'm as good of a swordsman as I can be." It was true, although his uncle was lackadaisical in attitude most of the time, Jaime Lannister refused to let up when it came to the preparation of his armor and the swordplay that they practiced together. Markus often wondered whether this was by his grandfather's order, or by his uncle's will.

"I want to squire for a knight one day." Tommen said, seemingly in awe of his cousin despite the words Markus had said.

"Maybe one day, little cousin." He ruffled Tommen's blonde curls playfully, which drew laughter from the boy. "Now come, or Uncle Jaime will have my hide." The two made it to the tent and Markus went through the process of preparing his uncle's equipment, using the routine he had developed in the past year he had spent squiring.

He first shone up his uncle's white armor, making sure that it would outshine the rest of the Kingsguard, even Lord Commander Selmy. When the armor was spotless, even after Tommen had twice dirtied it by dropping the armor on the soft dirt, Markus attended to his uncle's sword, making sure it was sharp and ready for use in combat should the King need being defended. This was his favorite task, as it was the same sword that had struck down Aerys Targaryen and brought about the end of the dragon, and he felt exhilarated holding it.

As Markus held it, he found his reflection in the mirror of his uncle's tent. He was taller than Joffrey, with the typical Lannister green eyes. But there was one defining characteristic that stood out, one that Markus wished he did not bare. While the hair on the left side of his head was golden like his father's, the right side of his head was all black. It was a stain, the true reminder of how he was born less than other nobles. The mark of his common mother.

"Can I hold it, Markus?" Markus' focus on himself was broken. He looked down as his cousin pleaded, but before he could speak, another voice answered.

"Best not, Nephew. I dare say that blade weighs more than you do."

"Father!" Markus saw his father Tyrion standing in the opening of the tent, observing the two boys with a small grin. The two boy approached Tyrion, Markus embracing his father. It always felt strange, as his father's head barely made it to his chest, but Markus' father always insisted.

"Preparing Jaime's armor, are we?" Tyrion broke the hug and observed the armor that Markus had readied. "I'm sure my brother will be impressed. This is the brightest the white as been in some time."

"I've been helping too, Uncle Tyrion!" Tommen said, showing the plate that Markus had given him to prepare.

"Good boy, Tommen. I dare say you'll likely be Jaime's next squire after Markus is done with his tutelage." _Hopefully I'm not done anytime soon. _Markus had found King's Landing much more favorable than the gloom that was Casterly Rock, and did not have any desire to earn his knighthood quickly and be sent back to his home. "Markus, I assume you will be accompanying your uncle at the head of the column?"

"Yes, Father."

"Good. Make sure to ask him if you can join me for dinner tonight." When Markus gave an inquisitive look, Tyrion smirked. "I'm not going to simply allow you to learn just about armor and swordplay. You have to learn about other things as well."

"Of course, Father." Markus was excited at the prospect of spending time with his father, although he wasn't so inclined to learn more from books.

"Excellent. Well, I suppose I should find where my dear brother is. He seems to have disappeared." Markus watched as his father waddled to the opening in the tent, but turned around before leaving. "Markus, come here." The boy did as he was instructed, and bent down so his father could whisper in his ear. "I heard you bested Joff in your last sparring session. I'll make sure to reward you when we make it back to the capital."

* * *

This first chapter is mostly an introduction of how Markus interacts with the majority of his family, as well as the boy's character. Hope everyone enjoyed!


End file.
